Many times the chime ,
If its mine the sublime,
Where birds fly set them free ,
if they fly away leave them be,
Hands open for a dove ,
Returning the yield from harvest of dwelling received ,
This morning mudlarks nest in Christmas tree,
The one where peregrine falcon rest in the crest,
They're fastest fast ,
The mudlarks baths ,
Close by my seat ,
So blow whooofsh ,
From hand ,
In her direction the birds feed arrives at her feet,
Fills the fountain the swifts tails,
The child who comes and peers into the pool,
Seeks the waters shine ,
Send to him the inner child unbind,
Given the way the mirrors fulfilled bliss ,
The healer the likes the world ever saw to both,
The awoke,
Next minute sunbird nest upon the string of time,
Old man gets what it is that old men nest to be blessed,
Give if its where monks enter mountains ,
Be it primordial sounds ,
Gongs pleasance abounds upon what wish for what or not resounds,
To the creatures kindness,
Give them their kisses to life ,
To forests unbridled passage travels of light ,
To alls will desires passages of deepest life
